


one by one

by weatheredlaw



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-30
Updated: 2011-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-26 17:07:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/285788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Like, for example, I am <i>very</i> good at eating. And you are very good at looking attractively sullen. Among other things, I'm sure."</p>
            </blockquote>





	one by one

**Author's Note:**

> au fic where yami is some kind of fighter and yugi has a nondescript normal job, but is a badass gamer on the weekends. also functions as an anti-smoking campaign. if you squint.

He exhales and flips his cigarette away. Somewhere in the night, an owl screeches, but Yugi isn't afraid. He stops before he reaches the bar, pulling out his wallet and flashing the doorman his ID before heading inside. There's a fight tonight, he thinks, and if he wins something he might bet on it.

In the corner, Duke beckons him over, introduces him as the Fucking King of Games and challenges any of the washed up business men to dare play a game of poker against Yugi Muto. A few of them accept. The ones with already empty pockets wander away, and Duke vanishes to bring back a pitcher of beer for the men and a couple of Greyhounds for Yugi. He tosses one back and grins at his opponents. Duke shuffles the cards.

On the floor, the fight is being set up. Yugi recognizes one of the trainers -- Marik something, his name is. They trade nods and Yugi goes back to his game. The lights on the floor shift and the music dies a bit. By the time the fight is ready to start, Yugi's cleaned out his opponents and Duke is flying high. He runs a clean bar, but he loves to show Yugi off.

Yugi struggles through the crowd, settling into a table with his friends. He buys a round of beer with his winnings, but saves the rest for the fight.

"That's Bakura, there. He's the assistant trainer for Marik. Their fighter is Yami, the tall one. You've seen him here before, he's like your twin or something." Yugi smiles and sips on his beer. "Ah, that's his opponent, the big guy. Not a fair fight, I think."

"He looks fit," Yugi says, raking his eyes over Yami's chest and forearms. Tea whistles her agreement. Yugi shoots her a grin and goes back to surveying Yami's opponent. He's tall, has a large upper body and shock of blonde hair. Joey mutters something about steroids and Tristan agrees. "Two hundred on Yami," Yugi decides. Joey shakes his head.

"Never thinkin' with his head, this one." Duke laughs and takes the money, doesn't say anything about the choice. Tea leans back in her seat, stretching her legs across Joey and Tristan's laps.

"Yugi knows what he's doing."

 

 

Across the room, head nearly between his knees, Yami listens to his trainer go over everything one more time.

"Keith's a powerhouse, he'll go in fast and hard. But you're faster, you can wear him out. If you can avoid his hits for the first bit, he'll get tired and you can come in strong." Yami nods and glances over behind the bar, where Duke is tallying up the bets for or against him. He frowns when the numbers go up: two for, sixteen against.

"Fucking great," he mutters, watching Duke switch the numbers at the last minute. "One to seventeen. I feel like a superstar."

"Stop moping," Bakura says, handing over his mouth guard. "And don't take that out. You nearly lost your tongue last time."

"It impairs my ability to grin savagely at my opponents," Yami argues, but sets the mouth guard in anyway. "Let's do this."

He's gotten used to the jeering over the years. The way some folks point and laugh at his thin arms and legs. He's got muscles, but when you compare Yami to "Bandit Keith" it just doesn't add up so well. He feels that momentary flash of intimidation, reminding himself that this could go horrible wrong and he could _die_ or end up with his fucking face smashed in for the rest of his life -- but it passes and all his sees in front of him is a pile of muscle and bone that crackles and sparks under the flare of the crowd.

"Bandit Keith everybody!" Duke's making the introductions from the bar. He gives Yami a quick smile, gestures to some guy in the back. Yami makes eye contact with him, watches him lift a beer in solidarity and good luck, then down the last of it.

His lone supporter. Yami smiles around his mouth guard and misses his grand introduction to the crowd, which proceeds to cackle in his general direction. He bows, like a good showman, and faces his opponent.

 

 

Yugi actually hates fighting, but he's good at making the right bets and not caving under pressure, even with the odds stacked against him. Joey apologetically switches his money onto Bandit Keith, after watching the two fighters meet one another in the ring. "I can't watch, man. I should just bail." But Tristan makes him stay and Yugi orders another round of beers and the fight begins.

It's a good fight, as far as they go. Keith's slow, and Yami's quick, moves like there's fire at his heels. Yugi has trouble keeping track of him and watches as the first couple of rounds go pretty quick, with Yami taking a good hit in the side and going down. His trainer doesn't seem too upset, and he's still quick as ever when he gets back in.

But things change quick and the crowd is getting mad as hell as Yami starts taking hits of his own and sending the lumbering Keith to one knee. By the last round, Keith's breathing hard and Yami's still moving like a flame through the ring, to the upset of the crowd.

He sends Keith down on the last round, spits out his mouth guard, and grins wickedly before delivering the last blow.

 

 

Joey's a sore loser. A pitiful, awful, sore loser. He scowls as he and Tristan order some more drinks and the fighting crowd is replaced with a softer, gentler one. After nine, the punks hit the harder stuff and Duke doesn't let that kind of shit fly in his place. Yugi's feeling buzzed as he accepts a drink he didn't order. The waitress shrugs. "From the winner," she says, pointing over her shoulder at the bar where Yami sits, nursing a beer. He gives Yugi a quick smile and turns back around to talk to his trainer.

Bakura's long gone, preferring the solitude of classier establishments than Duke's younger crowds that settle in after nine. Marik sticks around for a bit, has a beer, and takes his part of the winnings, clapping Yami on the shoulder as he goes. "Good fight. That was a good one. A keeper." Yami flushes proudly and finishes his beer.

"I'd thank you for the drink, but it's probably my money anyway." He turns around and finds himself face to face with the only friend he had in the crowd tonight.

"Probably. Maybe I should by you something with what's left of last week's winnings."

"I've seen you fight here before. Never bet on you. Never bet against you, either. Don't do it too often."

"You shouldn't bet on me too much. I don't really have a winning streak." Yugi shrugs. "I hear you do, though."

"Aw, Duke, are you talking shit about me when I'm not around?"

"Only to good people!" Duke yells over his shoulder as he fills a couple glasses. Yugi smiles and shakes his head.

"You're one of those game sharks?"

"No, I play for sport. I've got a real job."

"Wow. That's quite an achievement." Yugi nods and finishes his drink. "I did, once. But you know how it is. Nothing ever goes the way it's supposed to." Yugi raises his glass.

"I'll drink to that."

 

 

Tea throws Yugi a look when he says he's staying, reminding him politely and loudly to be very safe. Yugi rolls his eyes and hands her some money for a cab. "Make sure these losers get home, can you?" She smiles and ushers Joey and Tristan out the door as they cling to one another drunkenly and sing, "Battle Hymn of the Republic" all the way to the car.

"Friends?"

"Unfortunately," Yugi says, smiling as he turns back to the bar. The place is still packed, but he feels isolated in this one spot, sharing quite stories with the sad, hapless fighter at his side. "Since we were kids. Can't get rid of 'em."

"It's good, though, to have that."

"Mmmm." Yugi sigh around the mouth of his bottle, watching the neon sign above the mirror behind the bar flicker helplessly before going out. Duke leans over toward them.

"One more round? You both look beat."

"Nah." Yami stretches. "I think I'll head out. Share a cab?" he asks. Yugi nods, pays for his beer, and leaves Duke a good tip.

Outside, the streets are still busy and Yugi's wide awake. He turns to tell Yami he might just walk home, it's not too far, but Yami's distracted, glancing up and down the sidewalk like he's looking for something. "You okay?"

"I thought...Sorry, I've just gotten into trouble on this street before."

"You? Get into trouble? Shocker." Yami scowls, but it settles into a smile despite himself. Yugi checks his watch. Nearly one. "It's busy tonight. Wanna grab a coffee?" Yami starts, surprised by Yugi's gentle forwardness. He nods and lets Yugi lead the way, listening to him remember younger days spent running up and down these streets with his friends in high school, then in university. He collapses into a chair at a table outside a little cafe and grins. "You gonna sit?" Yami flushes and sits across from him. "You're strange, you know that?"

"It's been said before." The waitress comes out and she and Yugi make small talk for a while before he orders them some coffee and something to eat. "You don't need to do that," Yami says hastily. Yugi raises an eyebrow and shakes his head.

"It's coffee. It's not a big deal."

Yami wants to tell him it _is_ a big deal -- that when you do good things for him, you might not get something in return. That his way of doing things doesn't always afford him the luxury of friends and lovers. And Yugi could be both. Yami can see it, he can imagine doing this again, and again, maybe with others. He can imagine, briefly, the sound of Yugi's breath against his ear, or the weight of his body and the feel of his hands. He shivers.

"Hey, you still with me?"

"Yeah, yeah it's fine. Sorry, I..." Yugi laughs and leans out of the way as their coffee comes. "Thank you, again."

"It's totally fine. You earned it. Keith's a monster."

"He's an idiot. I've seen him fight before. He knows how to break things, and that's about it."

"Well, we all have our talents." Yugi sips delicately on his coffee and takes a bit out of his danish. "Like, for example, I am _very_ good at eating. And you are very good at looking attractively sullen. Among other things, I'm sure." Yugi smiles. "I'm good at winning, too."

"I've heard."

"Ah, my reputation proceeds me."

"You're Duke's favorite conversation topic. Anything to loosen up wallets."

Yugi puts a hand over his heart. "If Duke wasn't a friend, I'd be worried he was using me." Yami laughs. "He knows how to run a business. I know how to win. We're a good team."

"You'll have to teach me how to win sometime."

"Mmm, I don't think you need to learn how to do that," Yugi says, pouring more sugar into his coffee.

"No?"

"I mean..." Yugi looks at him, eyes bright and shining with something clever. "You're winning right now."

 

 

Yugi drags him into his house and kicks the door shut behind him, his mouth hot of Yami's neck and shoulders. The house is small, with a cramped living room and a bed shoved in the corner. Yugi pushes him onto it, undoing his own belt and watching with dark eyes while Yami peels off his clothes, struggling with the buttons of his jeans. "Here." Yugi peels them off roughly and grins. "I've been half-hard since you fought that idiot."

"So that's why you bet on me."

"Half of it," Yugi concedes, tossing his shirt to the floor and straddling Yami's waist. "You had this look," he murmurs, leaning down and dropping open mouthed kisses onto Yami's chest and sides. "I could tell you were going to win. I see it sometimes, at the card tables." Yami groans when Yugi's cock brushes his own as he reaches his neck, dragging his teeth along the hot line of his vein. "And you looked good shirtless."

"You're not so bad yourself." At this, Yugi laughs, loud and happy. Leaning back again and brushing the hair from Yami's face. "I'm serious."

"Shh," Yugi murmurs. "No more talking." Yami nods frantically, watching Yugi crawl down the length of his body, press his lips to the sharp of his hip bone, and swallow his cock down. He arches up and groans, the hot wetness of Yugi's mouth nearly knocking him out. It's been so long since someone's just done this for him, just taken him and given him this without expecting something in return. All Yugi's done for him all night is give, give, give -- he'd feel guilty if he wasn't getting the best fucking head he's had in ages.

Yugi pulls off with an _obscene_ pop and Yami shudders at the sound, groans when he makes contact again. Yugi keeps up the steady motion of his head. He's never been exactly _good_ at this, nor too terribly thrilled to do it -- but there's something so tired and worn about Yami, that he wants to do this. He wants to get him off and he wants to watch his fall asleep and maybe watch him wake up, too. And he could do it more than once. He could do it again if he needed to. Because he's been along for a long time, too. And it would nice, he thinks, to have someone.

It'd be a relief.

Yami comes with little warning, but Yugi doesn't mind. He swallows him with ease and comes back up, sliding across Yami's slick chest and kissing him, tongue heavy with come and the taste of his cock. Yami moans into Yugi's mouth and draws him closer, kissing him deep and relishing in the rare taste of himself.

"Good?" Yugi finally asks. Yami just leans back against the pillows and groans, laughing. "I thought so. I told you," he adds, sitting up on his elbows. "I'm good at winning."

"Mmm, so that's what you call this?" Yugi shrugs and runs a hand through Yami's hair. "It seems only fair I return the favor."

"You don't--"

"Yugi, I think I do." Yugi sighs as Yami pushes him back against the pillows and trails his hands along his sides. He wraps a hand around Yugi's own cock, giving it a few tugs, listening to Yugi lose control this time. He licks his palm and does it again, this time building a steady rhythm until Yugi's back arches and he comes with a small cry, striping his chest and spilling over Yami's hand. He lays very still for a while, collecting himself and breathing hard.

"Oh my God, I'm going to die." Yami laughs. "No, really. I am _going_ to die." He manages to stand and stumbles into the bathroom to get a wet rag. He wipes down his chest and Yami's hands and kisses him, tossing the rag onto the floor and threading his fingers through Yami's hair. "You might kill me, you know that?"

"I'm all clean," Yami says hastily and defensively. Yugi shakes his head.

"No, I mean...ah, never mind."

"What is it?"

"I just like you, is all." Yugi looks nervous for the first time all night, all calculated earnestness and cunning gone, replaced by almost child-like anxiety. "I sound ridiculous, I'm sorry."

"You don't," Yami says quickly. "Not at all." Yugi looks up.

"Well good." He reaches over to his side table for a cigarette. Yami makes a face. "Oh, don't do that now. I'll quit later."

"I don't think so." Yami flicks the box and lighter away and Yugi scowls.

"Fine. For you, then." Yugi settles against his pillows and yawns. Yami leans on one elbow, watching Yugi turn over and stretch. "Don't be creepy. Go to sleep."

"Sorry. It's just...it's the first time I've..." Yugi puts a hand on his shoulder and pulls him down.

"I know," he says. "Me, too."


End file.
